Bring Her Back
by picimadar
Summary: After months without results, Preventer decides to terminate the search for the missing Foreign Minister, Relena Darlian. Can the pilots cope when she resurfaces? Heero thought he had already lost everything... but how much has been taken from her? Canon couples. Rated for violence, mature themes and sexuality.
1. Prologue

A/N: Hello hello everybody, welcome to the new fic! I've been promising this one a while, especially since I've been posting (sporadically) to _Miscommunications_ , a fic is a side-piece to this one—they're in the same 'universe', but the scenes in _Miscommunications_ all take place before the main plot of _Bring Her Back_ _ **.**_ Basically, I developed too many headcanons and fun scenes for one coherent story, but I just love writing this version of the characters too much to pass it up!

I'd recommend reading both fics—I think that _Miscommunications_ will flesh out and help explain my perception of the characters and why they might make certain decisions in _this_ story. Of course, it's not requisite that you read both, they can definitely still be enjoyed individually!

This fic is rated M for violence, language, sexuality and adult themes. Any explicit sex scenes will be included in the unedited version on AO3, but not posted here. **(Personally... I'd consider it a 14A rating.)**

Now, before I go and make this A/N longer than the actual chapter, here's the prologue. More to come very soon (I swear on my grandmother's grave chapter 1 will be up this weekend!).

Enjoy, and please review!

-picimadar

BLANKET DISCLAIMER FOR THIS AND FUTURE CHAPTERS: I'm broke as hell, and I don't own jack. 

**Bring Her Back  
** Prologue

"The subject is ready, Caesar."

A short nod cued a flurry of action behind the enormous observation window. Keyboards and devices clicked and navigated, a few technicians murmured instructions and checks with each other. Ice blue lights glowed to life, illuminating the area beyond the glass.

Their subject sat squarely in the centre of a smallish, square room. A throne-like seat dwarfed the room, extensively outfitted with cardiac and neurological monitors, display screens, and all manner of computational equipment.

Thankfully the equally diverse array of sedative drugs, pain-inducing electric probes and restraints had not been required for some time; their subject had learned to come willingly after the first hundred trials of their new system.

Caesar approached the glass, tapping through a few menus to access the subject's personal data. The readout was detailed, in keeping with his decades of experience with what the new government would politely call _behavioural management_ or _asset recovery_. He preferred the simple, universal _brainwashing._

"EVE, please dictate the most recent analysis results from Trial-145."

"Certainly, Caesar," a pleasant, digital voice replied. "As of the current time, the subject has completed 86 of 100 termination scenarios with no measured aberrations from the desired response."

"This includes considering the added data regarding the target's anticipated behaviour?"

"Yes. It includes data recovered from Preventer databases, the wreckage of multiple mobile suits and observation materials obtained from NERO staff."

"No aberrant responses." The computer did not bother to reaffirm as Caesar continued to flick through complex charts and data. "What was the added four minutes, thirteen seconds on scenario 47?"

Eve was silent for a moment, computing. New graphs displayed in front of Caesar, and a video was pulled for the forefront. A young man stood before the subject. The video's high definition crisply displayed the tears running down the subject's cheeks as she yelled something, brandishing a loaded handgun. The man in the video lurched forward, grabbed the subject's weapon and promptly shot himself through the brainstem.

"The subject engaged in a line of reasoning that lured the target to impulsively commit suicide," EVE clarified.

Caesar sucked his teeth at the dramatics. "A highly unlikely outcome."

"She did still have possession of the weapon, sir," a technician added.

"It's true. We're considering coding that as 'non-requisite violence'… she could have easily just shot him herself, but she lured him to do it instead." The two technicians glanced at each other and shuddered slightly.

Caesar closed his displays quietly, ruminating on the technicians' observations and peering out as their subject completed her final trial. Stepping through two automatic doors, the tall, olive-skinned man approached the throne. A feeling welled in his stomach and he felt his heart rate climb slightly; anticipation he had not felt in the decade since the Eve Wars was flaring back to life.

He waited until it was safe to remove the ultra-complex VR headset from the subject; they had been working tirelessly for nearly a year, and Caesar was a man of intense, crafted patience. The subject took one long breath before she looked up at him.

"State your name, subject."

Her eerie, chilling voice echoed slightly. "Relena Peacecraft Darlian."

"State your mission, subject."

Her blue eyes shone with savage energy, at odds with her otherwise vacant expression.

"Kill Zero-One."

Caesar smiled.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Much overdue, as usual... more to come soon. I'm about 80% finished this story, so you'll get it in installments as I finish re-reading and making sure the continuity holds together.

Please enjoy and leave a review, I always love and appreciate your comments and critique.  
-picimadar 

**Bring Her Back**

Chapter 1: One Year, One Hour and Fifteen Minutes

There was a glass of water on the desk in front of me. Somewhere, my mind nagged that I had sub-optimal hydration- no, that I was _thirsty_. The carpet was red, a rich, saturated colour that reminded me of blood. The fibers were thick, plush; it masked footsteps. There was no such carpet upstairs above me- footsteps, pacing, light, light _ish_.

The blood red carpet wasn't like blood, it wasn't warm, it was cold. The room was cold.

A man was speaking, _somewhere_ … the carpet was spongy under my shoes, I could feel it depress and lift under the hard rubber sole. A window was open. A heavy door closed behind me- the lock turned into place, the tumblers aligning, one of them slightly misplaced, the handle of the lock sticking. I hated that lock.

The voice was there again, someplace, a voice I knew- Dr. Relo Sophim. He knew how much I hated that lock. I had joked, once, that it was the lock that made me crazy. We both knew it wasn't the lock, but he laughed anyway.

The room rushed into focus- the red carpet, the full bookcases, the thick wooden desk in front of me, the seat of a chair bumping against the back of my legs. A hand on my shoulder, pushing me down. A reflex slammed through my mind- _STOP HIM_ -but I felt my knees bend slowly as he moved away.

"Heero, take a seat," his voice said to me, quietly. I reached for the glass in front of me and drained it, trying to control my breathing. The chair was heavy, wood and leather. I saw Sophim reach across the table to take the glass from me as I realized how white my knuckles were around the heavy chair's dark wooden arm, around the empty glass.

"Heero," Sophim said to me, "just take a minute." The cold glass was replaced by the warmth of his hand over mine. His core temperature was elevated, most likely why the window was open. There were blinds for the windows that matched the carpet, but they were pulled open. I turned to look at it- there was no traffic outside, even though it was rush hour. _1723 hours,_ my internal clock said, _and you're late for-_

My eyes turned back to Sophim and I felt myself jump in my chair, a slapping sound shattering the numb, cold, _strange_ feeling as the man dropped a heavy volume onto his desk.

"There you are," he cooed to himself, placing the empty glass to the side. "Heero, I know this must be confusing for you, but I need you to try and tell me- how is it that you got here, today?"

How could my throat be dry if I just drank? I looked around the room again before I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. I _was_ late for a 1700h meeting that I had booked myself with our chief supervisor; I'd found a workaround for one of our top-level security flaws. "I don't know," I croaked, sitting back up with a huff.

"Work through it, Heero. You last remember being…."

"At work. I went in late this morning."

"Oh," Sophim said, busing himself with his usual notebook and ridiculous collection of antique pens. "Any particular reason?"

"Taking my dog to the pet-sitter," I said, trying not to roll my eyes. It had been Barton's suggestion after she decided to give up on her toys and start mauling my shoes and furniture. "I forgot I had her booked in and it's out of my way."

"Ah, good. How is Zola?" Sophim peered at me over his heavy glasses, his right hand still jotting notes haphazardly onto the paper.

"She'd be fine if she'd stop eating all my stuff." I sighed, sitting up and letting my spine align to the stiff cushion behind me. "After that, there was a party at lunch…. Somebody's birthday." _GET OUT_ , my mind begged; I could feel my blood pressure increasing, my pulse beginning to thrum in my ears.

"Was there good cake?"

"What?"

"The birthday cake," Sophim asked, pausing his note. "There's no sense in buying a bad one."

"It was fine. Chocolate. It's just cake," I ground out.

"Right, of course. So after this average cake," Sophim lead me to continue, "you…"

"I went back to my desk… One of the interns asked me questions about a new project he'd started." I felt my backache spread into my neck, a tense, anxious feeling I hadn't had in a long time. _GET OUT OF THERE NOW,_ it said with no ambiguity. The pressure in my skull that came with it felt enormous and I heard myself groan.

"What happened, Heero?" His 'therapist voice' was getting to me now- too calm, too quiet.

"I got… the call," I said, feeling my jaw clench. There was a ringing in my right ear growing louder, hollower.

 _\- "Heero, I don't know how to tell you this-"_

"It was just like before."

 _\- "It's about Relena…. Heero, I'm so-."_

"Was it, Heero?" I heard Sophim step around his desk and squat in front of me before I opened my eyes to look at him. "Heero," he asked again, "how did you get here, today?"

"I drove," I felt myself whisper. It was one thing to be pathetic, but another thing entirely to _know_ just how pathetic you're being. "I drove," I finally said again, and the ringing and headache fell away as I sat up. "The call… I was at my desk. It was from Preventer… it just… it triggered… _some_ thing."

Sophim nodded, continuing to write. "And so…"

"So I left. I got in my car and was going to go for a drive but she- it's just everywhere. The radio. Everyone reading the paper. I thought I could take it, today, and then…. That call." I paused but finished as I watched Sophim start to prompt me again. "And I ended up here."

I looked back toward the locked door and grimaced. "I scared your secretary." For some reason I didn't understand, the doctor laughed.

"She's seen worse over the years, I'm sure. Ex-soldiers, ex-spouses, me in the morning without coffee… these things happen." He smiled at me, and I felt myself relax. "The important thing is that you came, and nobody got hurt."

I nodded slowly before I felt a vibration in my jacket pocket, then another. My phone, again. My eyes darted to Sophim's as he raised his brows expectantly. "Go ahead, Heero," he said. "If it's them again, you should probably check it."

I pulled the phone out of my pocket and felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up as I read the notification.

DECEMBER 28, AC 207, 1740H

PREVENTER - SEC LINE

I could feel a crushing pressure building in the air around me as I stared at this phone. This call. This day. This _time_. It would be Duo calling me, calling me to tell me…

I picked it up and snarled "This had better be life and death, you son of a bitch."

"Heero?" Sally Po's voice came over the line. "Heero I'm sorry to call you like this, I know today is-"

"What… what do _you_ want?"

"Heero…," Sally gave a sound like she'd swallowed something bitter. "I hate to even ask this, but you have to come down here right away."

"I'm done with Preventer, Sally." I remembered the look on Une's face when they'd lead me- or rather _thrown_ me- out, earning a bitter taste in the back of my own mouth. "I'm not coming back there, not for any-"

"We found her, Heero," Sally finally said, letting out the words like she'd been holding her breath. "It's her. She's alive."

I hung up the phone and watched Sophim wince as I set it down on his desk with more force than I'd intended. I stared at it, the numb, cold, _strange_ feeling crawling back over my skin.

DECEMBER 28, AC 207, 1745H.

One year, one hour and 15 minutes after she had been taken, she had returned.


End file.
